


Devil's Own

by envygreen



Category: SEAL Team (TV)
Genre: Gen, Post Episode 2x13, post episode 2x17
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2019-04-17
Packaged: 2020-01-15 09:48:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18496453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/envygreen/pseuds/envygreen
Summary: Post-Episode 2x12 "Time to Shine", Post-Episode 2x17 "Paradise Lost".When you sit in the hallway of a hospital, all you have is time to think.





	Devil's Own

The linoleum was cool to the touch as it leached warmth from beneath Brock; the wall hard against his back. The physical sensation did nothing to ground him. His head was buried in his crossed arms as his mind kept examining every detail that led up to the explosion. Every minute that followed. Looking for the misstep, looking for what could have been done differently. There were so many things- too many things - not enough things. His thoughts kept going in circles because this wasn't a mission gone bad. There was no objectives; no operating missteps made. Clay's unmoving body filled with shrapnel lying in pooling blood was what his mind kept going back to.

This doesn't happen. This is not how it works. You don't sit in a hospital hall waiting to hear whether your brother will die or not. The injured operator is scooped away on medevac and it is Charlie Mike. Shunt the feelings to the side to focus on the now. Complete the objective and all the after action processes.  You only deal with the feelings later- or never if that is your preferred standard of operation.

Here there are no distractions. No gear to remove and clean. No mission to dissect and after action report to complete. No automatic motions to get your mind in order. Only the cold bright hospital hallway and the tense palpable worry that filled it. 

There has been so much tragedy lately- so many more close calls that could have easily been tragic. It was as though everything that could possibly happen to a team in an entire life time is happening to them and it has all been sprinkled with a helping of terrible luck.

A couple months ago, just after the Korea mission gone wrong, Brock took one look at Clay and knew he wasn’t okay. It wasn't completely unusual for Clay to be subdued and get lost in his own head, but it was completely unusual for him to be so completely unaware of his surroundings that three people walked by and two had said "hi" and he hadn't even noticed. Brock had been sitting and watching him from less than ten feet away. If the dark rings around his eyes got any darker he'd become a raccoon. Clearly Clay hadn't been sleeping. 

He and Clay bonded over being the new guys to the team when Clay was first brought on. Brock had a few years on him and was glad to pass the new guy status to him. They fell into a routine of running together most days. That day was one of the days they were meeting. It looked like the blond needed rest more than exercise and Brock was worried about him, but didn't really know how to express it and didn't know if Clay would accept his concern even if he could find a way.  Clay could be incredibly stubborn when he wanted to be. Brock decided to deal with it the only way he knew how.

He sent a text to both the kennel master and Jason. Then after a seconds thought sent one to Trent as well. He didn't wait for a reply before going over and dropping a hand on Clay's shoulder.

Clay jerked in surprise, but a smile was quick to appear on his face. One that didn't reach the rest of his face. "Hey Brock. Didn't see you come up."

"Change of plans. I hope you don't mind. We need to stop by the kennel to get Cerberus."

"I don't mind, what's going on?" Clay asked, standing up. 

"Water day. I'm going to toss you in a pond a few times so Cerb can rescue you. Then bite you a few times and track you down."

"I know that it has been warmer than usual for this time of year, but isn't it a bit cold for water work?"

"It is going to be 74 degrees out. You will be fine. You can wear a wetsuit under your clothes if you want to be a wimp." Though they had mild pleasant weather for the last week the water temperature was still too cold to work at the place Brock preferred to go, but he knew a wide overgrown pond that was much shallower and the water temperature would be a few degrees warmer. Still uncomfortably cold, but being uncomfortable is good training. They were a little limited on what all they could do there, but he used the pond before and would just reuse the training scenarios from the last time. Plus, it was close to his apartment and they could swing by afterwards to warm up.

Clay gestured to Brock to lead the way. "How did I get roped in to being a chew toy?" he asked.

"You were the one who volunteered." Brock reminded him.

"No, I asked if I could watch some of Cerberus's training. I do not recall asking to get knocked to the ground and gnawed on."

"Same difference." After deployment last spring when Stella was busy with school, Clay was at loose ends and apparently his curiosity got the better of him. He found it interesting enough that he continued to come observe whenever Brock invited him and he had free time. After a month or so Brock had him turned into part of the training. Why not use him if he was going to be there anyway?

"No," Clay said, "it very much is not."

Brock only shrugged at him. It worked out well for him and Cerberus.

Clay laughed, a genuine laugh and shook his head. "Fine. I'm in. Cerb and I will go freeze our balls off in the water while you just chill on the shore telling us what to do."

Brock clapped Clay on the shoulder in approval. That was the attitude he was looking for.

 

 

Brock dug his fingers into his arms. Now Clay was fighting for his life and the world was suddenly turned upside down. A handful of months ago Clay was reeling from the break up with Stella after the hard loss of Adam. Stella leaving him made him think the two things he wanted most in life were incompatible.  An existential crisis that had him second guessing his choices in life. The Teams were Clay's life. The only thing he ever wanted to be. They were who he was. Stella leaving him made him think the two things he wanted most in his life were incompatible. He came out of the Korea mission with a new (and somewhat unhealthy, to be honest) resolve. Clay had nothing but the Seal Teams and he accepted it and went all in. Brock biggest fear is that they may lose Clay even if he survives. If his injuries are as bad as they appeared he may never operate again - something that could kill Clay just as dead as if all his blood drained out of his wounds on the street.

 

 

 

Jason didn't know where the rubber band came from. He let it play between his fingers before stretching it to test its give. He then twisted it around his fingers before untwisting it and starting the process all over again. Ray stood leaning against the wall across from him, Sonny and Trent were hunched over in the chairs. Brock had been standing, but had slid to the floor some time ago, not willing to go the dozen or so steps to get another chair as it would take him further away from the emergency room door.

Jason was absolutely sick of hospitals. Hated the neutral colors on the walls. Hated the big doors that blocked you from the person you cared about as they either lived or died somewhere on the other side of them.  

The last time he had been in a hospital was the day Sonny was released after the trouble on the sub. When he visited him that day. Sonny, just being himself, helped Jason more that he could have ever expected.

That morning Sonny was frowning down at the hospital garb he was clothed in.

"They won't give me my clothes." He sulked.

"It's because they don't want you to run off before you are officially released." Jason told him.

"Ha! They clearly don't know this cowboy."

"No, you'd walk right through the entire hospital buck naked."

"Damn right I would."

"But you aren't. You are staying here until all the paperwork is signed and the doctor releases you."

"Yes Boss."

"And you will follow all the doctor's orders to the letter."

"Yes Boss. I would _never_ do anything differently."

Jason wouldn't normally visit his men just before they were released from the hospital, but this wasn't normally. Sonny drowned. He was in full cardiac arrest for an unknown amount of time. Per the doctor, the water saved him as much as it tried to kill him. The chilled water brought his body temperature down far enough that it protected his brain during the unknown amount of time it was out of oxygen. As long as he took it easy and did as he was told he would have a full recovery.

Sonny was terrible at following medical advice and would only do it if ordered. So Jason ordered it. And, as sometimes Sonny forgot orders whenever it benefited his bullheaded stubbornness, Jason was visiting him right before he was released to remind him of the order.

The sound of hospital staff moving around the halls was a constant background noise. Jason hated being here almost as much as Sonny did. The lack of privacy and intrusiveness by the medical staff was the least of it. When you were stuck in a hospital bed all you had to keep you occupied were your own thoughts. They weren't always pleasant.

Jason looked at the quiet and detached monitoring devices tucked into the corner of the room and the neutral colors of the decor. Hospital rooms had a certain sameness to them. He noticed there wasn't a clock on the wall. There wasn't one in the last hospital room he was in either. He wondered when they started disappearing. Did someone walk into the rooms and purposely remove them or did they just not replace them when they quit functioning. When they failed.

"I've got to get back to base." Jason said. There was a training evolution coming up that included Charlie and Echo. One last one before they went on their pre-deployment leave. There were still a few things to be ironed out. Such as whether they were going to send Alpha in Bravo's place. Jason was pretty sure that Blackburn wouldn't let them be pulled. It was weeks like this one that reminded Jason that Bravo was blessed with good Officers. Blackburn in particular was an incredible Officer. Blackburn cared. Cared about the men, cared about the mission, and he did what he could to shield his men from idiocy so they could get the job done and, just as important, also reined them in and applied corrective measures when needed. Jason couldn't count how many times Blackburn saved his ass.

It is pounded in from day one:  _Emotion clouds judgement. A decision made based off emotion is a bad decision._ Jason could control his emotions enough to not let them affect his decision making, but he was never the best at completely pushing them to the side. His way of controlling his emotions was to use them to drive himself to do better. He wasn't sure if he was doing a good job of it anymore.

Clearly he wasn't being an effective leader. His team second guessing him during the Mexico mission was proof of that. He wasn't sure when he began unravelling. Alanna and Adam's death?  The concussion he received before that? Nate's death? Or maybe it was when Alanna decided that they weren't working anymore and needed to separate.

To be honest, Jason wondered if he should retire. Not that he wanted to retire, but maybe he should. Maybe he was just flattering himself that the Teams needed him. Maybe he wasn't the man for the job anymore. Like the clocks that were removed from the hospital room walls.

Jason's thoughts were derailed by a text alert on his phone. It was from Brock.  That was unusual. He read the text then quickly replied.

 "You have a ride home when the doctor releases you?" Jason asked Sonny.

"Yeah, I've got a ride."

"Good. Go home. Listen to the doctor's orders. And follow them."

"Will do."

Jason felt a wave of relief. He believed Sonny. The man would do as he needed. At least for the next few days. He had a dozen other things to be worried about. He was glad Sonny wasn't going to be the first five items on his top ten list. "Good, I will be seeing you Sonny."

"Hey Jay." Sonny said, just before Jason left. Jason stopped and turned back to him.

"I haven't had a chance to say it yet, but, Thank You."

"Thank you?"

"Thank you for saving me. I knew if anyone could do it, it would be you. You always come through for me."

"I almost didn't this time." Jason replied. In mind's eye he saw Sonny laying cold and still on the metal grating of the sub.

"It was a close one, but if you weren't there, I wouldn't be here." Sonny said. "Only you think like you, it is the reason you are the best."

What do you say to that kind of conviction? Sonny's utter faith in him was a heavy load to bear, but it also quieted the voice in the back of his head a little.

"Sonny, I will see you later. Let me know if you need anything that doesn't contradict doctor's orders."

"Darn it, there goes the bouncy house and cigars plan. Better call the boys and tell them it's cancelled."

And with that, Jason knew that Sonny would be okay. A little rougher around the edges than normal, maybe, but definitely would be okay. Jason wasn't really much of a believer, but he thanked God for that and made a silent prayer that he would be a good enough leader to keep the rest of his team on task until they could get their shit together and make it through as well.

Now he was sitting in another hospital. Just a few months ago there were fissures running through the team and Jason felt they were at a tipping point where they'd either start getting better or it would start getting worse. It started to get better. It was only incremental changes, but day by day things got better at both home and on the job. Clay had come back from his existential crisis a little overly gung-ho, but it was something Jason could work with. Clay had a close bond with both Brock and Sonny. Jason had never seen Sonny bond as closely with someone as he had with Clay. Sure they had their rough spots, but that seem to only make them closer. Trent was as steady as ever and while Ray was clearly having issues it wasn't affecting his ability to operate. Clay was all sharp edges and clearly over compensating, but Jason figured that the five of them would work on him and get him back to a healthier mindset.

Now…

There was less than three minutes from the time of the second explosion to the time they got Clay loaded into the ambulance. That had to be enough to make a difference. It had to.

 

 

 

The muted TV down at the end of the hall showed live news broadcast of the bombings. Ray watched the pictures flashing across the TV without any of it registering in his brain. Nothing was really registering. He was numb. Just a day ago he felt like he was coming apart at the seams. Like the façade he put on years ago was starting to slowly unravel and an imposter was hidden underneath. The only comfort to be had was in a strangers' sympathetic ear. Now…now it felt like all the seams came apart all at once and he was adrift. The brief flash of terror at seeing Clay laid out swept through him so suddenly and violently it took all of his ability to feel emotion with it when it went.

The ability to feel would come back, he knew, it was just waiting around the corner and when it came it would be as sudden and violent as it left.

He should be praying. Even if he wasn't sure he believed anymore, he should be praying for god's mercy and strength, but the only words that come to his mind are "fuck you God for trying to take Clay from us."

The words don't change when Blackburn comes out the doors and gives them the news.

"As soon as intel gets enough together to go on,  we are going to start banging and we aren't stopping until we get the person who did this. You need to be ready. Hydrate, fuel up and get what rest you can."

 

 

 

They don't go back to the hotel. They can't until this is done. Only then will they return and help Sonny pack up Clay's things from their room to ship back stateside. There is no word on Clay's condition. It is reassuring, really, no news is good news in this case. He reminds Sonny of this when the Texan curses the lack of new information. A flight from Manila to Virginia takes over half a day.  Anything sooner than twenty hours likely means the doctors they are trying to get him to haven't had a chance to work on him. It can only be bad news if the people they are taking him to never have a chance to see him.

Trent has to take the decision to fly Clay to the states as a good sign. He has too. Why would they fly him all the way to the States if they didn't think he was salvageable and could survive the trip? When Trent closes his eyes he sees the chunk of metal sticking out of Clay's thigh and the blood bubbling out around it in time with Clay's rapid fluttery pulse.  In that exact area was the femoral vein, femoral artery and the femoral nerve. That wound alone was a near death sentence without the multiple fractures, other fragments of shrapnel embedded in his body, possible internal bleeding and the possible brain trauma from being close to two explosive blasts within minutes of each other.

Sonny was optimistic he'd pull through. "He's a tough kid with not an ounce of quit in him." Probably the only thing Sonny had ever been optimistic about in his entire life. It was hard to remember that only a few months ago Sonny had drowned and they nearly lost him. He came back so quickly without any ill effects that it was easy to shove aside and forget, even the day he was released from the hospital he was ready to keep charging ahead. It was only his sister being there that likely kept him from doing anything too stupid. 

 

"You fucking died Sonny."

The words were said quietly with a mix of frustration, rage, relief and grief. The tall brown haired woman stood rigidly, her arms crossed tightly across her stomach.  Trent winced in reply though the words were not directed at him.

"I may not know where you were at or what led up to it, but I know that your lungs filled up with water and your heart stopped. You were dead. So don't you fucking dare blow me off like this was nothing."

Sonny, finally unhooked from all the machines, was dressed in civilian clothes and sitting on the edge of the hospital bed. He had been impatiently waiting for the last signature from the doctor that would allow him to walk out the door. Trent was his ride home. Or at least he was. There was the possibility that Sonny's sister was going to put Sonny right back into that hospital bed.

"Jo, I'm not blowing you off." Sonny's voice was subdued and still a little hoarse. "You've got kids to look out for and a busy life to tend to. You shouldn't've come all the way out here to look after me."

"You put me down as your next of kin and you don't expect me to drop everything when the Navy comes calling?"

Sonny didn't have a reply to the clearly rhetorical question. "Sonny, I need to make sure you are okay. Please let me."

Sonny opened his arms and his sister moved in to hug him. "You've always been the one to try look after me." Sonny said as he pulled her close.

"Someone had to keep you and the others in line." She then pulled back, "You are lucky I'm still in pretty good practice at it or we'd have our entire extended family trying to fit into this tiny little room."

"You are a god send."

"Of course I am." she replied.

"One week that's it. No longer." Sonny admonished her.

"Deal. We will start with two weeks and see how it goes."

Sonny shook his head, but let it go. His sister took a step back and straightened her clothes. "Well, the doctor is sure taking his time. I'm running down to the caf to see if they still have some of that coffee from lunch. It's much better than the stuff up here. Call me if the doctor shows up."

Trent waited until Sonny's sister disappeared down the hall before he spoke. "I'm glad you won't be going home alone. You and I both know that is the last thing you need." No matter how much the rest of the team would like to stay with Sonny and make sure he got through this they couldn't, they still had a job to do. Jason and Ray would probably have tried to make Sonny live with someone on the Team, but he'd still be alone all day long.

"Follow the doctor's orders and you will be back before your sister leaves." Trent added.

"You and Jason." Sonny laughed, then coughed then laughed some more which caused him to cough. Trent waited patiently until he got control of himself.

"You and Jason, " Sonny started again, "act like I never listen to doctors."  
 

"You don't."

 "I will go to every appointment, every psych eval and do exactly everything they say."

Sonny held three fingers on his right hand up shoulder high. "Scouts honor."

Trent didn't saying anything. Only raised his eyebrows.

"Even if I didn't want to Jo will hold my feet to the fire to make sure it happens."

"Good." Trent then hesitated not sure if he wanted to say more or not then decided fuck it. "Don't hold the shit you've been through inside, Sonny. Talk to someone. If you can't talk to your sister or Psych then talk to us. You went through worse than hell. You and the others."

"I'll be okay," he said, voice subdued, "I'll have some interesting nightmares to pile on top of the other ones I've already got, and I'll pray we have no more subs in our future- cause that will sure blow donkey balls- but I'll be okay."

Sonny frowned down at the blanket he had clenched in his fists and carefully released it and smoothed out the wrinkles. 

"I'm not the one you need to be losing your hair over."

"You worried about the others?" Trent asked, ignoring the completely nonsensical turn of phrase. Sonny wasn't in top shape. He'd give him a pass on this one. 

"You want to know what is worse than being trapped in a small tube that is slowly filling with water and knowing that you are going to die when safety is only inches away?" Sonny asked in reply,  "Sitting only inches away from your brother who is slowly dying in a small tube and not being able to do anything about it- no, being able to do something about it, but not being _allowed_ to do anything about it."

Trent agreed with Sonny on this one. He would rather have been the one in the tube dying than the one outside the tube unable to do anything but helplessly watch. Even so, he was a bit upset that he wasn't there. Logically he knows there was nothing he could have done, but logic doesn't always overrule emotions. If Sonny had died Trent would fucking hate himself for not being there. If Sonny had died Jason and Clay would never recover. Ray may not have either.

"We were finally clicking on all cylinders again then this curveball comes our way." Sonny said with a frown. "Jason will be fine once we get out on the field again and start training. We've got him a few more years, I think. I'm worried about the kid. Goldie Locks has checked in with a text, but has otherwise been scarce."

"Brock and Cerberus are working on him." Trent replied, thinking of the text he got.

Clay was a fucking mess. He had been trying to power through an existential crisis he'd been having since Adam died and Stella left him. Then there was the added on bullshit and scrutiny that his dad's new book and public comments put on him. And now this? The kid never said anything, but he clearly had been questioning his life choices. Trent hadn't seen him enough to get a good read on him after the sub. He hoped he could work through it all before he broke.

"Brock's on him?" Sonny asked. "Not sure if I should be worried or relieved."

 Trent agreed with Sonny's assessment.  If Brock was worried then there was something to worry about. On the other hand, Brock was an absolute rock. Just his presence was a stabilizing influence.

Trent hoped Sonny's assessment of their boss was right too. For selfish reasons, of course. Jason had been through a fucking lot these last two years. At home and on the job. He deserved to make the choices that would be right for him, but Trent could only think of what might happen to Bravo if Jason retired. It was unfair, of course. With Blackburn in command Bravo would most likely be fine regardless of who took over Bravo One, but Trent had been burned before. 

Bravo wasn't Trent's first DEVGRU team. When he was first selected into DEVGRU he started in a different squadron. The time on that team was the most terrible experience of his entire military career. The leadership was terrible and it flowed all the way down. He dreaded every mission and training phase. He was counting down the days until he could bump back down into a regular SEAL team. It was by happenstance that he was temporarily transferred to his current Squadron. Alpha Team needed a man with his skills since their man was out a couple months for surgery. The well run Alpha made him hate his old team even more. He dreaded returning to it. While on Alpha he worked with Echo, Bravo and Charlie. He bounced around the teams a bit once Alpha's man came back. His move to Bravo was also supposed to be temporary, but turned permanent.

"Ray will be okay." He said to Sonny. More out of hope than with certainty. Ray had shit to work through, and was having some crazy crises of faith that Trent didn't fully understand, but Naima was a tough woman and would not allow him to be not okay for long. She would give him his space, but if he didn't get himself figured out she would make him get it together. Jason and Clay worried him though. They didn't have a Naima in their corner, but if Sonny thought they'd be okay Trent believed him. Sonny was good at reading people.

"The one who won't be okay is you." Trent told Sonny. "If you don't mind your manners, your sister will skin you."

"That’s how I keep my skin baby soft. My sister takes a layer every time I see her."

 

Trent doesn't watch the clock. He doesn't want to know how long it will take before the plane Clay is on touches down. Blackburn will pass on any new information he receives. Right now no news is good news. Right know they focus on catching the people responsible.

 

 

 

Clay wins over eighty-five percent of the bets he makes. He comes out of scrapes that should have killed him many times over with barely a sprained knee. There are many times when it looks bad- like the deck is stacked against him- but the cards always fall Clay's way in the end.

 

Clay has always had the devil's own luck. Sonny just hopes that he hasn't just run out.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote bits and pieces after "Time to Shine", but it didn't really go anywhere. I started writing bits a pieces after "Paradise Lost" but it, too, didn't really go anywhere. So I finally just spliced them together in an awkward mess. At two o'clock in the morning. Please forgive me for this mess. I am not happy with it, but I realize I will never be happy with it and am throwing it out there anyway.


End file.
